This is me coming back from a weekend. Back to writing and job searching. As it stands, while standing in Syracuse and embracing my Mr. Fantastic abilities, I’m stretching out my arms out to two places: New York and Chicago. There is a great chance that I’d find a job in either city, but going about it is utterly intimidating. Right now, I’d settle on being a page at NBC, donning the Kenneth name tag due to my relative awkwardness and love for writing/television/improv. If I have to fetch coffee to get my foot in the door, so be it and game on.
Chicago is the more affordable option, and it is probably the idealistic of the two (gut feeling), but the excitement from it comes running with false excitement to cloak doubt and anxiety. How the hell do I continue efficiently looking for a job? I want to keep this marketing gig up, the blog running and surviving, the short stories and novels progressing despite all of my stubbornness while trying to perfect them. It’s hard not feeling overwhelmed.
What I don’t want to do is have to rely on others. The experiences and personal progress has to be raw. I’m going to stay in the world-known Brooklyn-based bed and breakfast, At Home In Brooklyn, for a few days to acclimate myself with New York life. I hope to meet up with friends, improvisers, and–if possible–fellow bloggers who I follow and they follow me. It’s about networking.
This song played at an appropriate time on Pandora.
It’s been said that everyone should be paying attention to their dreams. Vivid dreams will go in spurts. I’m trying to have more lucid dreams, but that’s a struggle. However, not being able to manipulate the dreams has been priceless. There is nothing psychic about this, but it’s been mentioned that I’ve dreamed about situations that I’ve come across down the road. The time gap between dreaming and reality is shrinking, which freaks me out a little bit, but it isn’t anything to worry about.
To cover some ground, or be redundant: In 2005, a dream of my being in a cathedral comes to life in 2007. Granted this isn’t the same scenario, but this church revealed itself to be Salisbury Cathedral in England. Most recently–another church-related dream–came to life this past weekend. I don’t remember if this was written about, but here goes nothing (or something).
I’m a Catholic. I was baptized at St. Cecilia in Solvay, my First Communion took place at St. Charles in Westvale, and I was Confirmed at St. Michael’s/St. Peter’s on Onondaga Hill. My family is made up of Catholic gypsies. However, we returned to St. Cecilia, and that’s where masses are usually attended to date. Not too long ago, I had a dream that I was at St. Michael’s again, and the church was transformed; there was a specificity of the foyer. My brother was asked to be the Godfather of his girlfriend’s brother’s daughter; this would be easier to write (i.e. soon-to-be-neice) if they were engaged, but they are not.
The exterior of the church as been revamped, but I haven’t stepped foot in that actual church for several years. Sure enough–to make a long story short–this was the church in my dream. The revamped foyer and room at the top, before the pews, were strikingly similar. The layout wasn’t exactly the same, but that sense of deja vu slapped me in the face. This was it.
Recurring places have returned to my dreams, which means that I haven’t come across them (yet). There is a sense of being in Downtown Syracuse, and there are similar stores that reveal themselves, but they aren’t the same. The Museum of Science and Technology isn’t The M.O.S.T., but the layout is similar and the people working there are the same. The Sound Garden is still the music store, but it’s not in the same location and it looks completely different. In essence, the reality that I will be coming across will be my home away from home. My residence will parallel the comfort of being in Syracuse.
This has not been experienced yet.
The recurring mansion with changeable rooms–still waiting to experience it.
There is a brick Victorian–wanting to say Victorian, but it could be some other style–that keeps popping up during R.E.M., and it had this weekend (Friday Night). This brick house changes, and this time the transition was a mansion, but antiques were sold there. Walking upstairs and around, the place was disorderly and the staff seemed to parallel this confusion. The basement spanned out to an infinite distance. There were rooms with broken and dusty objects, saw a broken bike and old mirrors, but there wasn’t much of a clutter.
My list of celebrity cameos continued with Jeff Probst and Adam Levine. Recent cameos have been made by Gary Busey and Denis Leary as well. The same night as brick mansion, I was traveling abroad, because my job had me writing about travel and exploration; Benghazi was the place of interest, but I felt like I was in an Africa country exploring ruins with Probst. No idea why. I don’t even watch Survivor. From what I can see, regarding the commercials, the show has taken a turn for the worse and in the same aspect as MTV’s Real World and Road Rules challenges. Are those even on anymore?
Last night’s dream, Levine was acting like a douche and dumping red wine everywhere, pouring it on people and including me.
However, back to the traveling/mansion dream… While in Benghazi–that sounds so strange to write (this has to be another place that starts with a B)–while exploring ruins, bugs were flying around and they were fly-like creatures with long bodies. They had tendencies as ticks, because the bugs would bite and crawl into your skin. When you tried to pull them out, they would maneuver themselves deeper into your skin. If you touched the skin around their entry way, attempting to pop the buggers out as if you were popping a pimple, they would enter in faster. By the end of the dream, there were multiple–double digits–bugs in my leg, my calf specifically. Where the flies buried themselves, the skin would be raised slightly and they could be felt twitching.
Gross, I know.
All I can say, life–no matter what happens–will probably get interesting. It should. I’m accepting the Free Will of life, and ignoring what was told to me by my entrusted medium. I think the devine entities have confused a few aspects, and life isn’t panning out as they said it would.
I play with words and invisible objects.
A mind, a pen and a piece paper have the best relationship ever.
"Remember this--if you shut your mouth, you have your choice."
- F. Scott Fitzgerald